Among the Lost
by weepingangel9578
Summary: Sacrifices need to be made in order to save the ones that we love. A twist on the battle of helms deeps. Rated for violence, nothing too graphic though.
1. Prologue

**Alright so this is really just a teaser chapter for the rest of the story. Please enjoy, and please review!**

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_Sacrifice…_

Most people go through life without truly understanding what this word means. To most it means letting your younger sibling get the last of the cookies, or give up an hour of their time to help out someone else. They don't ever get to see the tragic edge that this word can hold. How sacrifice can mean putting yourself on the line and risking yourself for someone else. It could be a friend, or an innocent soul that needs to be saved.

Now this being said, not everyone has the luxury of being so naïve.

Aragorn, son of Arathorn is not one of those people. He has been surrounded by sacrifice for almost his entire life. From his true parents, to the rangers of the north, and the friends that he had been traveling with for the past months, sacrifices have surrounded him nonstop.

Boromir had sacrificed his life for Merry and Pippin, numerous random souls had been lost to the now frequent orc attacks, and now one of his closest friends had sacrificed himself for him and the other inhabitants of Helms Deep.

As he walked through the hoards of dead warriors, elves, men, and orcs alike, he searched for one figure in particular. He searched for a friend whom he had known for years and had become close to immediately.

As the ranger looked, he hoped that the word sacrifice would not have to reach his mind once again.

He hoped that his friend wouldn't be found among the lost.

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**Sorry it's so short but I really just wanted to put this story out there and tease you readers a little bit. I know it's cruel but it must be done. Please review and tell me what you think. The next chapter will be posted tomorrow. **


	2. Chapter 1

**Please review! I really want your thoughts on things!**

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A strangled and gut wrenching silence had been cast over the stronghold of Helms Deep. The towering stone walls were lined with elven soldiers from Lothlorien, the few remaining soldiers of Rohan, and the untrained, terrified, and hopeless men and boys.

The last minute recruits were clad with armor that barely fit, weapons that were old hat and rusted, and helmets that covered their frightened eyes. They all were glancing around nervously, observing the familiar faces of their fathers and friends for one last time. Although none of them wanted to believe it, all of them had that sinking fear in the pit of their stomachs. All of them knew that the chances of them surviving the upcoming battle were slim to none at best.

The trained soldiers were scattered among the crowds of worried men and boys, trying to calm their kin and themselves. However, the calm facade they were putting forward was in direct contrast with their true feelings. They were all gripping their swords a little tighter, keeping their eyesight a little sharper, and testing their reflexes a little longer. All were standing on the edge of a cliff and the slightest breeze would blow them over.

Then there were the elves.

The otherworldly beings were standing stock still, their pale faces set, and their weapons raised and ready to kill. Their keen eyes were scanning the vast land in front of them, waiting cautiously. All were equipped with a delicately crafted long bow and a quiver filled to the brim with arrows. Slung across their backs were single blades of shining metal. All of the elven soldiers stood side by side, shoulder to shoulder. They were standing in perfectly straight lines, unmoving. Their faces were calm and their breath was slow. Occasionally their heightened senses would focus in on their leader, Haldir, the marchwarden of Lorien, to make sure there were no changes in the battle strategy.

Above the swarms of waiting soldiers stood Théoden, king of Rohan, watching the makeshift army below him. The king sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that things could be different. As he scanned the men, elves, and boys he felt a horrible pang of guilt stab him in the chest. He knew that at his word all of these beings, well maybe not the elves, would fall on their own swords. All of them here knew that they were probably going to die before dawn came, yet they fought. The elves were immortal, they weren't supposed to die. They could remain in their strongholds and wait out the war, or sail to the undying lands and live out their lives happily.

He opened his eyes and exhaled sharply when the horrific images of upcoming war assaulted him again. He drew his gaze away from the jittery soldiers and looked to the group of three standing in front of the elves. They were a rag tag team at best, but they were a team none the less. He smiled lightly as he recalled the time that he had spent with the three. Théoden jerked out of his reverie as loud crashes of thunder echoed throughout the area. Lightning lit up the darkened sky and then the rain began to fall. It poured down on the soon to be battle field, and turned the dry grasses and dirt into a muddy mess. The downpour soaked through the soldiers and caused them to shiver involuntarily at the cold. The king inhaled deeply and held for several seconds, before letting it go and returning his line of vision to rolling hills ahead.

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Three figures stood quietly, waiting and watching for movement. The shortest one was leaning against a heavy and expertly carved axe. His thick red hair had been woven into several warrior braids, and it now hung loosely down his back. His equally bushy beard had been gathered into neat rows and braids by light metal rings. His stout body was clad in heavy chain link and dark leather clothing pieces, such as thick trousers, long tunic, and lightweight jerkin on top. His head was covered with a protective metal helmet. The flaps on the sides hung down over his ears and the buckles on the ends hung open. It helped slightly with the rain but not enough to keep him from being weighed down by the wet substance as it soaked through his armor and clothing.

Standing to his left was a muscular man of average height. He was clad in a dark overcoat that reached down below his knees, a tunic and light trousers over leggings. He wore bulky black boots, covered in a mass of buckles. Around his waist was a worn leather belt that had a sword attached at his right hip. His hair was dirty, straggled, and hung loosely around his face. His chin and cheeks were covered in light stubble. His eyes were sparkling silver and they stood out among his slightly fallen features. He was a ranger of the north with overwhelming potential.

Next to him was a slender and tall figure. His shining blonde hair stood out among the graying atmosphere. It fell down his back and over his shoulders easily. His pointed ears stuck out from underneath his warrior braids and twitched whenever noise hit them. His muscled and lithe body was clothed in light leggings of dark greenish gray, a tunic that fell to his mid thigh of silvery blue, and a jerkin of patchwork greens, browns, and other earthy colors. His feet were covered by light gray boots that concealed two small daggers. Much like the other elves around him, he carried a white longbow with the delicate carvings of Lothlorien. Across his back was a quiver of arrows that he had crafted himself. On either side of the quiver were perfectly crafted blades from Mirkwood. The handles were crafted from polished wood and the blades were made from white bone. The blades had intricate carvings along the sides of the blades and the bottom of the handles.

His feet shifted lightly as he felt the hand of the ranger reach up and grasp his shoulder. He turned his head and looked into the ranger's concerned gaze. The elf sighed when he saw the worry in the man's eyes and turned his head back to the fields ahead.

He squinted through the sheets of rain as he detected slight movement. He quickly looked to the rest of his kin. Almost all of them were muttering lightly and shifting nervously. He exhaled sharply, they had seen it as well.

"They are here."

He spoke simply and he felt the ranger tense.

"Your friends are with you Aragorn."

The man sighed and dropped his head from the elf's shoulder. However, a deep baritone chuckle drew the gazes of the two over to the dwarf.

"Let's hope _they _survive."

The dwarf shifted nervously and the elf shook his head. Aragorn chuckled lightly before becoming solemn again.

Suddenly a blast of lightning lit up the sky and the battle field was revealed. Aragorn groaned and the dwarf swore lightly under his breath. The elf stiffened and his breath caught in his throat.

Standing before them was the entirety of Isengard. There stood an army of ten-thousand Uruk-hai and orcs, and all they had was laughable three hundred.

All were clad in outrageous amounts of armor and weapons. They were taunting the warriors on the walls with insults and battle cries.

Neither side dared to move as the rain continued to fall.

Then the order was given. The elves, including Legolas, raised their bows, and the men followed suit. All held their position. Arrows ready to fly as soon as the command was given. And then, without warning, an elderly man let his bow-string slip from his grasp, and his arrow embedded itself deeply into the closest orc.

Legolas sighed and closed his eyes as the orcs shouted at the soldiers. Almost immediately all hell broke loose. Arrows were fired rapidly as the orcs returned the gesture with archers of their own.

As Legolas drew another arrow of his own, he looked to his friends, who had already become immersed in battle, and muttered under his breath.

"A i auth an Ennor herio." (And the battle for Middle Earth begins.)

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**Please review! Next chapter will hopefully be up tomorrow. My week is gong to be pretty busy, so no guarantees, but I will try!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Please review!**

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The battle was now in full swing. The singing of bows firing deadly arrows at the enemy, and the swishing hack of swords slicing through flesh was marring the once peaceful air. Screams of rage, pain, death, and fear were clashing horribly, and causing most subjected to them to cringe. The clank of metal boots and chain link was deafening.

The muddied ground was no longer visible due to the piles of cooling corpses that had accumulated. Orcs lay on top of elves, which lay on top of men, who were crushed against the cold ground. Most of the beings eyes were cold and unseeing, locked in the constant stare of death. Their mouths were set in grimaces, frowns, gapes of shock, and thin lines of hopelessness.

Then there were the few that had their eyes closed and their mouths neutral, they almost looked like they could be sleeping. However, the blood, gore, and unbearable wounds gave them away.

Standing above, and among, the decaying bodies the remaining numbers of the living fought viciously.

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The battalions of elves had decreased drastically. The once mighty number of two-hundred had been squashed to a depressing twenty or thirty. The marchwarden had fallen, and now the elves fought blindly.

With their beloved leader gone, they desperately searched for a figure to follow. Some found leadership in the elves next to them, but most looked to the lone Mirkwood elf for guidance.

Legolas had been fairly clueless to his new followers, but when he did take notice of them he jumped into control. Screaming from the best perk he could find, he ordered them to kill any orc or uruk that moved. They stood in their places and looked at the blonde elf with hopeless eyes. Legolas' heart broke for them and their loss, but now was not the time to grieve. As he quickly decapitated an oncoming orc, he yelled a final battle cry in elvish.

"Gurth goth rim tel'quessir!"(Death to the foes of the elves!)

The Lorien elves nodded grimly and set about their task, leaving the Mirkwood elf to return to the protection of the wall and his friends standing next to him.

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Then there were the men or boys more accurately. Most of the men who were actually of age had been killed, leaving the boys, some no older than ten years of age, to continue fighting. Most of the oversized armor had been discarded, seeing as it hindered them and therefore cut down their slim odds of survival even more.

The young boys could be seen holding up swords, which were much too heavy for them, to take blind swings at the attacking orcs, or block a fatal blow.

The few remaining soldiers were trying exceedingly hard to protect the younger humans as much as possible, but their own survival was clouding the protective side of their minds.

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Among the men, elves, and orcs, stood a small party of completely random soldiers. Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli had somehow managed to stay together during the chaos of the battle. They were each slightly overwhelmed by the number of enemies, but continued on regardless.

The elf and dwarf occasionally shouted at each other with updates about the scoring contest.

"Twenty-six!"

"Twenty-nine!"

"Thirty-three!"

Aragorn stood in-between them. His clothes and skin were doused in foul orcish blood, which was spilling from the fatal wounds he was delivering. His grunts of exertion were growing louder and louder with each orc that he slaughtered. He continually checked in on his friends , and the surrounding area.

When he noticed that Gimli had been seperated slightly, he held no worry. The dwarf was doing just fine, and was killing mass amounts of uruks and orcs.

On his fifth or sixth check his mouth formed a frantic gape and he ran to the edge of the wall. He shouted for the elf when he saw the painted orc running towards the walls. A single torch was in its hand and if it reached its destination, an entire section of wall would crumble.

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"Dago han!" (Kill it!)

Legolas turned sharply to see what the ranger was squawking about. His eyes widened when he spotted the sprinting orc. The elf quickly drew an arrow and let it fly. The weapon embedded it's deeply into the shoulder of the orc. Much to the ranger's, and the elf's surprise, the creature continued running. The arrow had barely slowed him down.

Aragorn became even more agitated as he pleaded with the elf.

"Dago han! Legolas! Dago han!" (Kill it! Legolas! Kill it!)

Legolas became desperate as he shot several more arrows. One more hit the orc's shoulder and the other embedded in his chest. The elf was flabbergasted. His arrow had struck the heart, how was the beast still running. Legolas turned to see Aragorn looking at him with pleading eyes.

The elf's mind was racing a mile a minute. Suddenly it dawned on him.

If he didn't do anything right this second, Aragorn and many others were going to die. He knew that there wasn't anything he could at this point to kill the orc, so he did the one thing he could.

Legolas drew a deep breath and ran to the ranger. Time seemed to slow when the elf pushed the man forward. Aragorn fell backwards and stumbled over several broken bodies and discarded weapons. He looked to the elf in confusion and froze when he saw what the elf was doing. In seconds he had managed to clear most of the men from the area. Legolas turned towards him and smiled sadly. Aragorn became deeply worried when he saw the beginnings of tears in Legolas' eyes. The ranger was about to raise himself from the group when the unthinkable happened.

The orc had reached its endpoint and had ignited the explosives. Aragorn was blown backwards slightly. When he had righted himself enough to see clearly, he watched in horror when he saw Legolas fall backwards with the broken ground, before he tumbled down with the debris. Several men fell with him, most were dead before they hit the ground.

The man turned his head when the dust stung his eyes. Immediately after it began clearing, he leapt from his spot on the wall. He peered over the edge of the broken section, searching madly. His eyes roamed from the large slabs of rubble, to the broken bodies of men. He felt tears form when he couldn't locate the elf. Orcs were now swarming the newly made hole, killing the few that had survived.

Aragorn released a single choked sob, and bit back tears. He quickly closed his eyes in pain. He calmed his breath to the best of his ability, and stood slowly. He bowed his head and placed a hand over his heart.

"Hiro îth ab 'wanath Legolas." (May you find peace in death Legolas.)

He straightened and turned when he heard evil chuckling behind him. The uruk leader was standing behind him. Aragorn clenched his fists in rage and grief and raised his sword. The orc sneered at him and raised its weapon in suit.

"A little tense human?"

Aragorn spat at the orc's feet.

"You have no idea."

He swung his blade and charged the orc, one more battle cry falling from his lips like the few tears that fell from his eyes.

"I will bring revenge to the fallen! I will bring revenge to Legolas Thranduilion, prince of Mirkwood!"

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**Please review! I will try to post again tomorrow!**


	4. Chapter 3

**Alright I am so sorry that I haven't updated for so long! I have been in a vocal show the past two nights and I have had rehearsals after school all week. This also meant that I wasn't getting home until like at least nine or ten o'clock. So thank you all for being patient, and now please enjoy!**

**Please review!**

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The once strong structure of Helms Deep had become a messy heap of destruction, despite the fact that the men that resided there had been the victors. Bodies lay everywhere, and the speed at which they were being cleared was not nearly fast enough to hide the sight of all the gore. The remaining, and exhausted, men were slowly pushing the orcs and other foul beasts into piles to be burned later, and the men were being carried through the damaged walls to be brought to families and cremated properly.

Then there were the elves. Only seven of the original two hundred had survived. The elves that were still standing had delicately prepared the bodies so their armor was straightened, their bows were lying across their chests, and their capes had been wrapped around their bodies. Every one of the elves had been accounted for and stacked into elaborate piles. Only one was missing, the crowned prince of Mirkwood.

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Aragorn had been searching for an hour and a half and he still hadn't found his friend. He pushed through the straggling men as he searched through the remaining bodies. He kicked over orcs and pushed aside men and elves as he searched for that golden headed elf with the bow.

He had already received several shouts of sympathy from the king and his nephew Eomer. He hadn't been engaged by the dwarf yet, and he was truly dreading it. Even though their hatred had been strong, the elf and the dwarf had slowly grown to be great friends and the possible death of the elf would no doubt kill the dwarf.

Even though the probability that elf was dead was overwhelming, the ranger refused to believe it until he found proof.

Aragorn had become so lost in thought, that he didn't even realize that he had reached the section of wall that had been damaged. He stopped abruptly and gazed at the crumbled stone. The horrifying sight before him made his stomach churn.

The blood of fallen men, elves, and orcs, stained the stone. Several of the men who had fallen during the explosion lay impaled by the jagged fallen rocks. The ranger turned away ever so slightly and grimaced. Unfortunately he knew what he had to do. Aragorn turned back to the gore and walked along the rubble. Every once and a while he turned over stones and peered underneath. Sometimes he truly wished he hadn't, the crushed bodies of men chilled him to the bone.

And then he found it. Lying among the blood and gore was a single white bow...Legolas' bow. Aragorn sucked in a heavy breath and knelt down to the ground. He hesitantly reached down to place a hand on the carved wood. It was cold, and the delicate carvings had been masked with dark red blood. The ranger picked it up and turned it over in his hand. He rubbed at his eyes with his other hand and pulled at his jacket sleeve. He gently wiped at the blood until the white wood was showing through once again. The man pulled the weapon closer and held it to his chest and let several silent tears fall.

"Hey Aragorn, have you seen that blasted elf?"

The ranger stiffened and set down the bow. Aragorn turned to find the stout creature of the dwarf standing behind him. Gimli was leaning casually against his axe as he shifted his armor. After he was satisfied with himself, the dwarf looked at the ranger on the ground. He frowned when he realized that the ranger was thoroughly distraught and clutching something behind his back. The dwarf approached him and knelt down in front of him.

"Aragorn…are you alright? Is Legolas alright?"

The ranger chewed at his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. He turned his head away and released a strangled whimper like noise. This was when the dwarf became seriously concerned. He grabbed the ranger's shoulders and shook him softly. Aragorn looked up to him with teary eyes. He slowly brought his hand forward and showed the dwarf the beautiful and well worn elven bow.

Gimli looked down at the weapon with shocked eyes. He reached a shaky hand forward and grasped the object lightly. He looked at the ranger with a questioning and worried gaze. Aragorn barely choked out his response.

"H-He…fell. He s-s-saved me a-and h-he fell…"

The dwarf looked to the bow and slowly stood.

"Fell...?"

"O-Off the wall w-when it blew up..."

The dwarf watched the ground and the bow as processed the information he had just been given. He remained quiet for another second before swearing loudly under his breath and turning his head to the sky.

"Damn it elf! Why do you always have to save the day? Why couldn't you just be selfish for one time in your pompous life?"

Aragorn suddenly leapt from his spot and walked to the dwarf. He placed a hand on the dwarf's shoulder and sniffed away some of his tears. Gimli turned to him and tried to hide his tears.

"Have you found him yet?"

Aragorn shook his head and staggered forward.

"No…and we may not have to."

The dwarf watched the man turn back to the rubble and begin searching through the rocks again, albeit a bit more erratically. The dwarf gripped the bow tightly and followed after the man. He joined in the search on the other side of the wall.

He moved rubble aside and grimaced when he only found the smashed remains of men and orcs. After several desperate minutes had passed, a shout of concern, amazement, and surprise filled the air.

"GIMLI GET OVER HERE!"

The dwarf dropped the piece of stone he had been holding and ran to the ranger's location. He was confused when he saw the ranger holding up the side of a slab of stone. He scanned the object and almost dropped the elven bow when he saw the strands of golden hair lying across the material.

Gimli raced over and gasped when he saw the body of the elf wedged underneath the stone Aragorn was holding. He set down his axe and the elven bow, and grasped the elf underneath his arms before pulling forcefully. He managed to drag the being out and he laid him down upon a dryer section of ground. Gimli nearly threw up when he took in the overall state of the unmoving elf.

His hair's original color could hardly be seen anymore through the layers of grime, gore, blood, and dirt. His once flawless skin was now marred with cuts bruises and serious gashes. His pale skin was now mostly red and black with blood and dirt; in short his face was hardly recognizable.

Then there was the rest of his body.

His torso was a mess of blood and cuts. His tunic and jerkin were almost completely shredded. His left arm was turned at a completely wrong angle. His right arm wasn't in much of a better state. His hand looked completely crushed and his arm was marred with rather large gashes.

His lower body was in a similar state. His legs were messes of blood and his leggings were almost no longer existent due to the fact they were rubbed against the broken stone when he fell and when he was pinned underneath the decent size slab of stone.

Gimli cautiously brushed the few strands of hair from the elf's face and then sat back on his calves. He was in no hurry to find out what he knew he would have to test eventually. Then, as if perfectly timed, the ranger dropped the slab and stumbled over to the dwarf and bloody elf. He dropped to his knees next Gimli and shifted his hands in his lap.

"Have you checked?"

The dwarf shook his head and looked to the ranger.

"I-I can't Aragorn. I just can't…"

The ranger nodded and slowly reached a hand out to the elf's now mangled neck. He placed two fingers at the top of the elf's neck and he waited for several seconds. Then he pulled back slowly. Fearing the worst, Gimli closed his eyes and waited to hear the words he had been dreading. However, much to his surprise, those words never came. Instead he heard Aragorn's breathing rapidly increase.

He opened his eyes to find Aragorn pressing his fingers to Legolas' neck once again. Then the ranger pulled back and stared at the dwarf with wide eyes.

"Gimli…he's alive…"

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**Sorry for the cliffy but I really hope that you enjoyed the chapter. Please review!**


	5. Chapter 4

**Thank you for the reviews you all have left for me! I greatly enjoy them! **

**Please review!**

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Pained and strangled gasps for breath pierced the air within the makeshift infirmary of Helms Deep. Wounded men and children had been placed around the room on thin mats. Women and young girls were racing between bodies with various medicines, bandages, and other healing supplies. All of the injured men had several family members kneeling and crying at their sides. The smell of blood and gore filled the nostrils of almost all who were present, and involuntarily made their stomachs churn.

Standing among the woman were Aragorn and Gimli. Seeing as the ranger had learned many healing skills from Lord Elrond when he was under his care, he was assisting the nurses as much as he possibly could. The dwarf wasn't skilled in healing, but was following the orders of the ranger to the tee so he could help out to the best of his ability. However, neither of the two could focus very well, due to the fact that their friend was still unconscious and half dead.

Legolas had been cleaned slightly by the ranger, but his wounds were still just as dangerous as they had been when he was first found. He was barely breathing and his skin was ice cold. His desperate struggle to breath was heart breaking. His intake was raspy and he was barely able to release the air that he had just consumed. His body was almost completely covered in bandages, and most of them were stained a deep red.

After spending hours tending to others, Aragorn had finally pulled up a chair beside Legolas and placed his head in his hands. He watched the elf as his chest slowly rose and fell. He turned when he felt a steady hand on his shoulder. Gimli was standing behind him with a stern look on his face.

"Aragorn, I am going to see if there is anything else I can do to help. Please send for me if anything changes with his condition."

Aragorn nodded slowly and turned back to the elf. He kept his gaze forward as he heard the heavy footsteps of the dwarf head towards the exit of the room. He sighed and rubbed at his temples.

"Please wake up mellon-nin…please." (my friend)

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Aragorn shot his head upwards when a slight rustling caught his attention. His sharp grey eyes fell on the elf. He watched in anticipation as the elf's facial muscles began moving.

Then, to the ranger's shock, he moved his hands, arms, legs, and feet. His breath sped up a little as he tried to open his eyes. Aragorn moved from his chair and crouched next to Legolas. He gripped the elf's hand as he waited.

"Legolas…can you hear me mellon-nin?"

Legolas whimpered slightly and his body twitched lightly. He arched his back and moaned in pain. Aragorn placed his hands on the elf's chest and pushed him back to the ground. Legolas groaned again under his touch. Aragorn watched intently as Legolas' eyelashes and eyelids fluttered ever so slightly. A keening wail dripped from the elf's lips as his injuries were slightly bumped by a passing nurse. Aragorn grabbed an uninjured section of Legolas' arm as he whispered comforting words to his pained friend.

"Pân ha eithel mellon-nin, lle baur an dar-dorn, lle gar-harnas taus baur an nesta." (All is well my friend, you need to remain still, you have wounds that need to heal.)

Legolas squeezed his eyes together and nodded as best as he could. He opened his mouth a little and tried to speak.

"W-W-Water Aragorn…P-Please…"

The ranger stood in shock as he processed the fact that the once dying elf had just spoken. Legolas croaked again and Aragorn shook himself from his surprise.

"Of course…of course Legolas!"

Aragorn turned around and shouted for a nurse to come over. The closest one ran to his side and fetched him a glass of water for the elf. He immediately lifted the glass to Legolas' lips and poured the liquid down his throat. The elf greedily drank before coughing violently. Aragorn pulled away the glass and wiped the blood and access water from Legolas' chin. The elf breathed in deeply and once again tried to open his eyes. Aragorn gripped his hand again and coaxed him forwards.

"It's okay Legolas, you can do it."

The elf slowly opened his eyelids and looked, with unfocused eyes, towards the ranger. His blue orbs were slightly clouded but still observing. He dipped his eyebrows down and tried to move his head upwards. Aragorn pushed him back down and smiled brightly at him. Legolas furrowed his brow again and observed the ranger from his spot on the ground. His voice was still shaky but Aragorn could still hear him loud and clear.

"Are you injured, because you look terrible?"

Aragorn stared at him incredulously and found himself broken up with laughter several seconds later. Legolas cracked a half hearted smile and shook with very light laughter. However, he was soon stopped by a large puddle of blood climbing up his throat. Aragorn quieted himself and wiped away the red liquid. Legolas swallowed heavily and closed his eyes again. Aragorn gripped his hand and slowly pushed away several strands of Legolas' hair from his face. At the gesture Legolas opened his eyes and Aragorn started at the tears that were in his eyes.

"Legolas, are you alright?"

The elf sighed and looked up at the ranger.

"I'm sorry Aragorn. I wasn't fast enough to stop the orc from blowing up the wall. I killed so many innocent men and children. I tried to move them out of the way, but I couldn't. I almost killed you too. I am so sorry. I cannot ever ask you to forgive me for my failure. I cost you many of your kinsman's lives."

Aragorn watched in horror as the elf let several tears slide down his cheek. Spasms racked his body as he choked on his tears.

"I-I am s-sorry Aragorn, so v-very s-sorry."

The ranger brought himself from his thoughts and delicately wrapped his arms around the elf's shaking form. He moved around the elf's injuries to make sure he didn't hurt Legolas even more. The elf moved his arms as best as he could around the ranger as he sought for forgiveness. Aragorn pulled back from the elf and looked him in the eye.

"Legolas do not say anything of that sort. You saved many lives including mine. Is this why you didn't move out of the way?"

Legolas nodded and sniffed as he tried to compose himself.

"I knew that I had to save as many of the people I had put in danger as I could. I could never forgive myself if I didn't."

Aragorn sighed and shook his head.

"Legolas, you need to realize something. This wasn't your fault. You had mere seconds and you managed to move dozens of people out of harm's way. Stop blaming yourself and understand how important what you did is. I owe you my life, as many others now do."

Legolas smiled lightly and cringed when a new wave of pain flew through his body. He looked up to find Aragorn's concerned face staring at him. The elf smiled weakly but jerked suddenly when a gruff voice shouted at him.

"YOU!"

The elf turned and paled slightly when he saw the angered dwarf running towards him. Gimli stopped mere inches from his face. The dwarf was pink in the face with anger and he had now grabbed the elf's arm. Legolas flinched in pain at the contact and looked to Aragorn for help. The ranger nodded and placed a hand on the dwarf's shoulder.

"Gimli, his arm…"

The dwarf looked at him with a questioning gaze and became embarrassed when he caught the rangers meaning. He released the elf and back away slightly. However, his rage still remained.

"How could you do something like that you crazed princeling! You could've died! You…You…GAH!"

The dwarf threw his hands up and pointed a stubby finger at the elf.

"Don't do that again you hear?"

Legolas nodded viscously and ended up having to stop for the pain in his neck was growing steadily. Aragorn frowned slightly and lay the elf back onto the mat he had been given. Legolas groaned in pain and shut his eyes. Aragorn sighed and rested his hand on the elf's fore head in an attempt to soothe the elf.

"You need rest Legolas, your body may heal faster than ours but that doesn't mean that it happens immediately."

The elf groaned and tried to protest. However, he didn't get very far with the dwarf and man standing above him, ready to push him back down if he got up. Aragorn sighed and closed his eyes.

"I will wake you if anything happens, alright?"

Legolas nodded and relaxed on the mat. Aragorn chuckled when the elf fell asleep almost immediately afterwards. Gimli shook his head and stalked over to the ranger.

"Will he ever learn?"

The ranger chuckled.

"Nope. Why don't you go find something to eat? I will stay here in case Legolas wakes up."

The dwarf nodded and got up to go. Aragorn watched him leave before he turned his attention back to the prone elf on the ground. He leaned back in his chair and settled himself in for a long wait.

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**Please review!**


	6. Chapter 5

**Alright I am thinking that this is going to be the last chapter, so please enjoy and review!**

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The atmosphere surrounding Helms Deep was slowly turning back to normal. It had been three days since the atrocious battle, and the grief for lost loved ones was finally beginning to subsiding slightly. Mothers, daughters, and the remaining sons and fathers were now filing the streets and market places, constructing homes and gathering supplies for restarting their lives.

Walking among them were two, very stressed companions. They were searching madly for the third member of their group. Legolas had finally healed enough to get up and move around, and had immediately slipped his 'guard' of two Rohan soldiers.

Aragorn and Gimli would have watched him themselves but they were preoccupied with helping out the Edoras citizens that still remained. They had been out all day rebuilding, carrying supplies, moving rubble, and cleaning the destroyed area. Both of them knew that as soon as they left, Legolas would try and disappear to some random and hidden place within the stronghold. He had been complaining about the cramped space since he had woken up, so it was only a matter of time before he tried to leave his confines.

In solution the two had assigned Legolas a guard of Eomer's finest soldiers, Halen and Nimli. Assuming that their friend was well looked after, Aragorn and Gimli had bid the elf farewell for the day, and left to complete their work. If only they had known how folly their decision had been. Almost immediately the elf had used his overwhelming skills, even while injured, to slip his assigned protectors and slip off to who knows where.

The man and dwarf had returned to find two very nervous soldiers standing outside the door to the healing pavilion, searching the area and asking questions of the locals. When they questioned the two soldiers on Legolas' whereabouts, they paled drastically and choked on their words. After much deciphering, Aragorn and Gimli had deduced that somehow Legolas had distracted the guards with some petty request and while they were off fetching some object or piece of supplies for the 'suffering' elf, the prince of Mirkwood had maneuvered his way through the ridiculously high, and tiny, windows of the shelter, and had run off to find a hiding spot.

So now the two were racing around town trying to find the frustrating elf. After all, Legolas still had a broken arm, several broken and bruised ribs, a minor concussion, sprained ankle, cracked collar bone, and delicate stitching holding together his deeper wounds. Aragorn knew that the elf would be careful but he had been around Legolas when he had been confined due to injury before, and it didn't end well. The prince had managed to tear out two sets of stitches and re-fracture his left wrist. Not wanting to have to tend to the elf's wounds again, or delay their journey any further by waiting for the elf to heal _again, _his pace had increased slightly after they hadn't found Legolas after an hour and a half of searching.

Gimli on the other hand was just plain old frustrated. He still hadn't forgiven the elf for risking his life in the first place, so running off when he was still healing wasn't helping Legolas' case. The dwarf was also exhausted by the hard labor that he and the ranger had been doing, so the last thing he wanted to do after a full day of work was chase after a pointy eared, spoiled, and impatient elvish prince.

Feeling the ache of exhaustion in his legs, Gimli slowed down to a minimal walk and called the ranger over. Aragorn sighed and diminished his speed while he waited for the dwarf to reach him. Once the stout creature was at his side the ranger stared his search again, albeit a little slower for the dwarf's sake. The man resumed his questioning of the passing humans as they entered yet another market. One by one he pulled people over and asked them the same question. Unfortunately for him, he received the same negative answer.

"Excuse me have you seen a tall blond elf pass through the area recently?"

"An elf?'

"Yes, he is reasonably tall with long blond hair. He has blue eyes and he should be wearing the grab of a woodland elf. He would also have several bandages covering his body."

"Sorry I haven't seen an elf since the battle, and most of them are dead."

"Alright thank you."

"I am sorry I couldn't help, I hope you find your friend. He is very lucky to have such nice friends that are so concerned about his well being."

Aragorn smiled and bowed his head to the woman as she disappeared from his sight in the vast crowds. The ranger inhaled sharply as he looked to the now seething dwarf.

"Gimli?"

"That pompous princeling! First he scares us half to death by sacrificing himself, and then he does this? Does he want to be beaten senseless?"

The ranger chuckled lightly and placed a hand on the dwarf's shoulder.

"Calm yourself Gimli. As much as I hate to admit it, Legolas has reason for his actions."

Gimli looked at him with an incredulous expression painting his face. Aragorn nodded and pushed the dwarf forward as he talked.

"Legolas is a woodland elf, by definition they spend almost all of their lives outside. For Legolas to be kept immobile for several days inside a cramped building, we might as well be torturing him Gimli. Now think of this, if you were in his place how would you have reacted?"

The dwarf shuffled forwards in silence before mumbling something incoherent. Aragorn shook his head and placed his attention back to the hunt for Legolas. He scanned the surrounding houses and was about to return to his questioning when he felt a light tug on his jacket sleeve. He looked down, and to his surprise, he found the face of a slightly emaciated and dirty child gazing up at him. The ranger stopped the dwarf and bent down to the child's level. Sensing the nervousness around the child he spoke calmly and with a friendly twinge.

"Yes little one?"

The child turned his head downwards briefly and scratched at the ground with his tow absent mindedly. The ranger waited patiently as the child lifted his chin and titled his head sideways.

"Are you looking for the elf?"

Aragorn jerked slightly at the question before he smiled coyly.

"Why yes we are. Do you know where he is?"

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Aragorn and Gimli had followed the child's directions exactly and now found themselves in a small clearing within the east wall. Aragorn chuckled when he realized that they had been headed in the wrong direction all day.

The two climbed the small hill in front of them and became curious when they heard high pitched laughter mixed with quiet songs in elvish. Aragorn and Gimli walked over the peak of the hill and nearly collapsed in laughter when they saw the current state of their elvish friend.

Legolas was sitting with his legs crossed in front of him in the grass, and he was surrounded by children. Three boys and four girls were sitting in front of him, their eyes watching him intently. It seemed that he was teaching them an elvish song because the two could clearly see his lips moving and the children repeating the various phrases. Aragorn immediately recognized it as a common lullaby from Mirkwood. However, this wasn't the most entertaining part of the situation. Standing behind the elf were three girls who were greatly absorbed in the act of braiding Legolas' hair. His warrior braids still remained intact but he now had seven or eight other small braids underneath and around them. They had been tied with several brown leather ties and tucked within the tiny twists and tucks were several small blue flowers. The elf didn't seem to mind very much and whenever the girls would ask him for an opinion he would smile brightly and tell them that he loved them.

Aragorn and Gimli continued to watch when suddenly the elf jerked his head upwards and his face drained of all color. He locked gazes with the ranger and Aragorn raised his eyebrows in question. The elf brought a hand up to his forehead and rubbed at his non injured temple. Gimli chuckled and began making his way down the hill with the ranger. Soon the two had reached the elf and were trying to contain their laughter. The children watched the new comers with curiosity before placing themselves around the elf once again one of the girls sat in his lap and giggled when he bounced her on his knee slightly.

"Leggy who are they?"

Legolas ceased movement and blushed at the nickname. He glared at the dwarf and man as they snickered before answering the child with a smile.

"These are my friends Aragorn and Gimli."

The little girl nodded and cuddled up against the elf's chest. Several of the other children scooted closer to him as well when Aragorn and Gimli approached their friend. Aragorn knelt down as he spoke.

"I am sorry young ones, but it is time for 'Leggy' to leave."

Legolas glared at the ranger but was quickly sidetracked by the chorus of protests. He turned to the pouting children and wiped at the tears that had gathered on some of their faces.

"I am sorry my friends but Aragorn is right. I need rest if I am going to heal. I had much fun with you all today though. Thank you."

Legolas smiled at them and slowly rose from his crouching position. However, before he could fully stand, he was stopped by a small pair of arms. The elf winced in pain as he was hugged tightly around his abused abdomen, but he returned the hug none the less. The kissed the little girl on the forehead briefly before shooing her home with slight pushes of his hands. She waved quickly before turning on her heels and running through the clearing. The other children ran to claim hugs of their own before following the girl's example and heading to their houses. Once they were all gone Legolas was left alone with Aragorn and Gimli. He turned to his friends and blushed when he found them both choking on laughter.

Gimli wheezed for air as he looked at the elf's new hairstyle.

"Nice hair Leggy."

The nickname caused the two to break into even stronger laughter. Legolas sighed in exasperation and began plucking the flowers from his hair with his good hand. He had soon gathered all of the delicate flowers and set them down on the ground in a small pile. Then he went to work on the braids around his face. However, it is rather hard to take out braids with one, so Legolas ended up instinctively moving his broken arm towards the back of his head and barely suppressed a screech of pain. This brought Aragorn out of his daze, and he switched in healing mode. He quickly checked over Legolas' arm, his other injuries as well, and assisted the elf in his previous task. Legolas' hair was soon free of unwanted braids, and since the hilarity had worn off, he was now faced with the rage and concern of his companions. He cringed through a ten minute lecture from the dwarf and dozed off slightly during Aragorn's. He jerked in alertness when laughter once again reached his ears. It was less teasing now, but the elf disliked it none the less. He huffed in annoyance and glared at the source of the chuckling, which he now knew, was Aragorn.

"What?"

Aragorn raised his hands in defense and spoke calmly to the elf.

"Nothing mellon-nin." (my friend)

Aragorn paused as he reached for Legolas' shoulder.

"Lle anno ti amdir taus ennas ha crom mîn i ardhon." (You gave them hope that there is good left in the world.)

Legolas sighed and gazed in the direction where the children had disappeared.

"Amin iest amin him car-duir beleg." (I wish I could do something greater.)

The elf turned to look at the ranger with guilty eyes.

"The young girl who hugged me first, she lost her father and her two older brothers in the battle. I can't help but think…maybe if I had-"

"Legolas stop!"

Legolas was taken aback by the sudden interruption of the ranger.

"You need to stop blaming yourself. You did everything you could and you saved many lives that night. There was no possible way that we were going to get away with any causalities. Now get those thoughts out of your head and return to the healers pavilion with us. You could use some rest."

Legolas smiled at the ranger and nodded mutely. He looked over to Gimli and was delighted to receive a nod from the dwarf as well. The elf sighed once more before wandering off in the direction of the pavilion. He called over his shoulders to the other two in the clearing.

"Come! I never thought I would say this but I wish to return to my bed."

Gimli snickered and called back to the elf in return.

"Anything you say Leggy."

The dwarf chuckled for a few seconds longer before a calm, yet highly threatening voice echoed through the air.

"If you call me that one more time dwarf I will slit your throat while you sleep. Do not underestimate me because of my injuries because I can assure you that would be most unwise."

Legolas smiled when only silence was heard throughout the rest of the walk.

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**Well that's the end folks. I wanted throw in a little fun due to the overall seriousness of the story. I hope you enjoyed my story.**

**Please review!**


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